


Tension

by queen_scribbles



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Sparring, Stress Relief, first little baby hints of UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: The Exile is an agitated mess after seeing the recording of her trial, and sparring's always a good way to work that out.





	Tension

**Author's Note:**

> Got nostalgic, started playing KotOR 2 with the restored content mod for the first time, and my darn Exile decided to get chatty. I can't be too mad at her, 'cause who doesn't love a good, tropey sparring fic, amirite? ;D

Kayris ran out of things to do before Telos was a full day behind them. She still tried; fixed what she could on the_ Ebon Hawk_ without getting in Bao Dur’s way, tinkered some with T3, lost several games of pazaak to Atton... It wasn’t until her absolutely abysmal attempt at meditating with Kreia she finally conceded it wasn’t so much she was_ out of things to do_ as it was _out of things she could **focus on**_. Apparently, her irritation at the recording T3 had found in Atris’ archive ran deeper than she’d realized.

She needed to hit something. Now. Before they got to Nar Shaddaa, even. It was the only thing that had a prayer of working out this stress. Even droid tinkering--her favorite hobby and usually a sure bet--couldn’t completely calm her jangling nerves, and she almost fried T3′s motivator in her distraction.

“Sorry, buddy,” she said soothingly as she corrected her mistake and closed the access panel. “Clearly I need to do something else. Shame the blasted ship doesn’t have a sparring room...”

T3 chirped a response to her musing and Kayris smiled. 

“I know it’s a smuggler’s ship not a warship,” she said, pushing to her feet and patting the droid on the head. “You’d still think they’d wanna keep their skills sharp.”

T3 boop-beeped something and started rolling toward the cargo bay.

“Really?” Kayris raised an eyebrow as she followed. “How’d I miss that before?” _Aside from the ship only being in my possession a grand total of, what, two days..._

A low whistle and cascade of beeps answered, echoing off the walls. T3 trundled into the cargo bay and up to one of them far end wall panels. His articulator arm extended, engaged with a port she couldn’t see, and a well-concealed compartment slid open. Inside rested rolled up floor mats and a pair of deactivated training remotes.

Kayris grinned. Wouldn’t be the same as fighting a person, but still gave her something to do. “Very nice. Thanks, T3, this is perfect.”

T3 whistled happily and rolled out of the cargo hold.

It didn’t take long for her to convert the space to a makeshift training room and retrieve her double-bladed sword. “I need the challenge,” she muttered to herself, and activated both remotes on an intermediate level.

They did prove to be a challenge, and she felt their sting several times. More than she should’ve; she wasn’t that rusty. Even the rhythm of combat was proving elusive.

“Good form,” a voice drawled from the doorway as she paused to catch her breath.

Kayris turned and half-smiled at Atton, weapon hanging loose in one hand as she wiped sweat off her face with the other. “Thanks.”

“Y’know,” he began, pushing away from the wall to saunter a couple steps into the room, “if you’re looking to work out tension, an intelligent life form might make a better partner than kriffin’ droids.”

She smirked. “Sounds good. Let me know if you see one.”

Atton narrowed his eyes, expression unsure if she was joking. “You’re in a mood today.”

She grimaced. “Sorry. That _was_ intended as a joke. Especially if you’re offering to help...?”

He nodded, posture relaxing at her confirmation. “Why not? Ship’s on autopilot, not like there’s much else for me to do.”

“Alright, then, tough guy.” Kayris raised a teasing brow. “What were you thinking we’d do?” She shot a significant look at the blaster strapped to his hip.

Atton shook his head and grinned. “Live fire shipboard’s a bad idea, and stun blasts wouldn’t be any fun. I was thinking more melee, anyway. Hitting things, well, _me_, should help get out all that pent-up tension.”

“No offense, but are you any _good_ at melee?” Kayris asked. She’d only seen him use blasters so far in their brief acquaintance.

“If the point of this is to let you beat the living hell outta something, does it _matter _if I’m any good?” Atton countered. He smirked. “‘Sides, even if I’m not, it’d be good for you to beat me at _something_.”

She glowered at him. “I_**will** _win a game of pazaak against you someday.”

His eyes gleamed mischievously as he shrugged off his jacket. “Win a set first, Ris. _Then_ you can start talking about winning a game.”

Her glower deepened and Kayris flipped her sword flush with her arm to level one blade at him. “You’re goin’ down now, Rand.”

“Really? Right now?” Atton baited, holding up empty hands. “Thought you Jedi types frowned on attacking unarmed opponents.”

Rather than point out that he wasn’t, technically unarmed with that blaster on his hip, she instead scooped up the force pike she’d left leaning against the wall and tossed it to him. “There. Armed.”

Atton grinned at the clear challenge underlying the words as he caught it. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Kayris made note of several things as they circled; the reflexes behind how easily he’d caught the pike, his comfortable grip on it that spoke to at least some martial experience, the wariness in his stance as he_ stalked _out their path. The Handmaiden’s words about his having Echani training floated through her mind, and she_ could _see elements of that style in his movements.

They couldn’t circle like this forever, and she was curious about a few things, so Kayris gave it a few more steps and then made the first move--an overhand swing Atton blocked easily.

“You open with that a lot,” he said dryly, tone just neutral enough to hide if it was a judgment or an observation, as he pushed back until her blade slid free and then cranked his around toward her shoulder.

“Yes, and?” she countered, twitching her right blade high enough to deflect the blow. “You’ve seen me fight how much?”

“Enough to see the pattern,” Atton grunted, side stepping her next strike and swinging a low slash at her shins.

Kayris backpedaled, then brought her blade around toward his unguarded neck. “Don’t think we’ve left anyone alive to exploit that little quirk.” She gritted her teeth as Atton swiftly brought the pike up to shove her sword away. “Not that it would work if they tried”--she bulled forward, forcing him to sidestep so he didn’t lose his balance--”I’m very good.”

“Oh, really?” The teasing words had barely left his lips when Atton backed into a wall and one blade of Kayris’ sword came to a halt not even two inches from his jaw, only held at bay by whatever instinct had brought the force pike up as he stepped back.

“Yes, really,” Kayris grinned, breathing hard.

Atton rotated the pike slightly and pushed back, his angle forcing her to give ground. “Should I feel sorry for these Jedi Masters when we find them?”

She gave up several steps in rapid succession and saw him teeter for just a moment, but he caught himself before she could exploit his unbalance, and they were back to circling. “Depends on what they have to say. _Would _you feel sorry for them, even if you should?”

Atton snorted and made a small, experimental strike toward her ribs, backing off quickly when she blocked it. “Does it matter what I think? I’m not the one the exiled for following her conscience.”

“There was more to it than that,” Kayris protested. She tripped over the edge of a mat and rolled out of the way from Atton’s opportunistic jab.

“Like what?” he said skeptically.

“Yes, we needed to do something, and no, I don’t regret following Revan,” she began, swiping at him with each blade in turn even as she regained her feet. “But some of the things we,_** I,**_ did needed accounting for, and protecting the innocent”--she kicked at his legs, then swung her elbow into his shoulder when he jumped to avoid it--”was only part of my reason for going.”

Atton hit the ground shoulders first and was rolling out of the way before she brought her blade down in follow-through. “Everyone does things for more than one reason,” he countered. He rolled up on one knee and grabbed the lower blade of her sword near the hilt, ignored it digging into his fingers so he could yank her off-balance. “Doesn’t change that at least part of why you got kicked out was for making them look bad, sitting in their ivory tower while the galaxy went to hell around them.” His elbow hit in between her shoulder blades, pushing her toward the floor. “Jedi _hate_ looking bad.”

Kayris turned the momentum into a somersault, biting her lip literally and figuratively in the process. She rolled into the wall and instinctively threw up an elbow. It didn’t connect with anything, but hanging back in anticipation of her reaction kept Atton at bay long enough for her to find her feet.

She’d barely done so, however, before he was in her space, pike held horizontally to pin her against the wall. She got her sword in between just in time, the pike’s grip clipping her knuckles in the process. 

“You could have mentioned you knew how tricky doublehilts are from experience,” she panted, meeting his gaze with a smirk. Her hunch had been right.

Atton chuckled, breath rushing warm against her cheek. “And show all my cards at the start?” He matched her smirk, eyes locked on hers with a look that made something in her _**twist**_. “Even _you_ know that’s not how you play the game Especially if you want to win.”

“Speaking of winning...” Kayris hooked one foot behind his ankle and twisted her sword to make him stumble back. “You really should be sure you _have _before you let your guard down to gloat.”

She pressed her advantage, and within seconds Atton had hit the floor again, this time with her blade flicked to his throat before he could roll away. He tensed for a heartbeat, clearly contemplating something risky, but relaxed and let go of the force pike.

“You win,” he laughed breathlessly. “Good fight.”

“Not too shabby yourself,” Kayris returned as she lowered her blade. “And it definitely helped.”

“Good to hear.” Atton pushed himself up on his elbows to grin at her. “Always happy to help you relieve tension however I can.”

She rolled her eyes and offered him a hand up. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

It took only slightly more bracing than she’d expecting when he accepted, still grinning. “You do that.” Despite the words, he released her hand _very_ quickly, shaking his as if it stung.

Kayris shot a meaningful look at the blood staining his fingers. “You should probably take care of that.”

Atton shrugged. “Eh, it’s not that bad. And you’re one to talk with this.” He titled her chin up and brushed his thumb over where she’d bitten her lip.

She flicked her gaze up to meet his for a moment before hastily stepping back, self-consciously feeling the swollen skin as she parroted, “It’s not that bad.”

He cocked his head and studied her for a long-frozen second. “So, are you gonna tell me those other reasons you went to fight?”

Kayris smirked coyly. “And show all my cards at the start?”

Atton snorted, which turned into another laugh. “Guess I had that coming.”

She just shrugged in quasi-innocence and held her smirk as they locked eyes, panting breath and the underlying hum of engines the only sound.

And then the _Ebon Hawk_ yawed hard, tossing Atton into the wall and Kayris into him. The only reason they didn’t crack heads was Atton got his hands up in time to catch her biceps and steady her a few inches away.

“Sorry...” she mumbled in tandem with his wry, “You alright?” and suddenly their eyes were locked from _much_ closer together.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat and started to ease out of the space between her and the wall. “I should see what that was.”

“Right,” Kayris nodded, scrambling backwards. “I can, ah, check the hyperdrive.” She crossed her arms tight as he let go.

Atton didn’t look at her as he shrugged his jacket back on. “Good idea. Thing’s finicky enough as it is.” He darted toward the cockpit, and she busied herself cleaning up the sparring mats until his footsteps faded.

When she did head for he hyperdrive as promised, she was stiff with an entirely different kind of tension.


End file.
